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Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Joelle is going through a Disney princess phase, in a BIG way. She no longer responds to Jo or Joelle. Nope. She's either Belle, Cinderella, or Arial, and she insists that you call her by one of those names. If you call her by her real name, she'll give you a confused look, and say, "No, my name is Arial".

So, you can imagine how confusing this was for her teachers, classmates, and classmates' parents when she started school this year. We're just now getting to the point where everybody understands that her name is actually Joelle. Not Arial.

Saturday, November 12, 2011

It's been a while since I posted. Partially due to lack of material, but also out of guilt. A big part of why I've have been documenting all of this is so that someday the kids will be able to read through it and enjoy this stage of their life as much as Christina and I have. I've been writing these posts for a few years now; nearly all of them are about Kyle and very few of them are about Joelle, which kinda makes sense because she's only been talking for about a year now—but I want Joelle to be equally represented. So, I've been waiting for opportunities to blog about Joelle... and waiting... and waiting.

The thing is, she's hilarious. In fact, she's the reason we transferred all my Facebook posts to this blog. But, as it turns out, she's not funny in the oh-so-bloggable way that Kyle is. With Joelle it's all about her tone, timing, facial expressions, and attitude. Talk to her for a few minutes and you'll know what I mean. She's an absolute crack-up. But a transcript of what she's saying just wouldn't do her justice. So, mainly for the sake of posterity, I'll be posting more of Joelle's stories on here—even though I know that people reading it won't appreciate it nearly as much as the people who were there to witness it. In any case, here's a few...

- In the car, Joelle begs me to drive fast. When I accelerate, she screams like she's on a roller coaster. It's so fun and infectious that we've all begun screaming when we get on freeway onramps. Even Christina... sometimes.

- Joelle took a small plastic bug net to school for show-and-tell on Thursday. The entire way to school she insisted I roll her window down momentarily to "let the butterflies in". Then she'd swing her net around wildly and proclaim "I got one". Then in her cute little girl voice she would say "Hey butterfly. I caught you". Then, in a deep, gruff voice she would say, I'm a bad butterfly. Let me go!" Then she would yell, "Daddy, Daddy, open the window". And when I did, she would chuck the imaginary butterfly out the window and say "Okay, he's gone now." This happened over and over again with slight variations all the way to school.

- Tonight at dinner, Joelle didn't want to eat her food. I asked her to eat her grilled cheese sandwich. She immediately started meowing like a cat, and said, "Sorry dad. I'm a kitty. Kitties don't eat sandwhiches."

Monday, October 10, 2011

We were driving in the car today and that song from LMFAO, "I'm Sexy and I Know It" came on the radio. Both Kyle and Joelle started singing ALL the words perfectly. So, I started singing with (actually over) them but with alternate lyrics: "I'm six. See? Yeah, I know it!".

Kyle: Uh, dad. That's not how it goes.

Me: Yeah it is.

Kyle: Six? That doesn't even make sense. He says "I'm SEXY and I know it".

Me: No, I don't think so. Sexy?!? Pshhhh. What does that even mean? (expecting him to laugh at this nonsense word.)

Thursday, September 8, 2011

We went to the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk last weekend. It was a great way to end the summer, and Kyle and Joelle had a really nice time.

In particular, Kyle LOVED the Haunted Castle. I don't know if the concept of a haunted castle was new to him or what, but he was fascinated and had a ton of questions while we were waiting in line. Christina and Joelle sat this ride out, so I did my best to fill him in... Oh, and also to scare the SHIT out of him.

Okay, I'll admit that I got a little carried away. But that's what dad's are for, right? Here's the transcript from our conversation while we were in line:

Kyle: [Laughing] Hey, look at that skeleton that keeps popping up in that window. Cool!

Me: Yeah, I guess that would be cool if it weren't so dangerous. I don't want that thing anywhere near me.

Kyle: It's not dangerous. This is all just pretend.

Me: That's what you keep saying, but not everybody who gets on this ride comes out the other end. Some people never come out. See? Look at that car coming out, it only has 3 people in it. Where did the fourth person go that's supposed to be in that empty seat?

Kyle: [Unsure at this point, and obviously concerned for the "fourth person"] No, you're just pull'n my leg.

Me: Let me tell you something... When I was your age, I came here with my best friend. I sat in the front and he sat in the back. When we went inside and the doors closed it got dark, I heard him scream, and when I looked back he was gone.

Kyle: [Gulp]

Me: Yeah. I never saw him again... It sucked... His parents cried for days.

Lady in line behind us: [Laughing at our conversation]

Kyle: I think you're just kidding.

Me: Okay, whatever. But there's something really important that I need to talk to you about before we go in there. If I'm not sitting next to you when you come out the other end—If the skeletons get me, I want you to stand next to that pole over there and wait for this lady to come out [pointing at the lady in line behind us]. She'll help you find mom. Promise you'll wait for her at the pole?

Me: [To the lady] His mom is on the beach over there. She has dark hair.

Me: [To Kyle] Do you promise Kyle?

Kyle: Yeah, but let's just hold hands so we'll be safe.

By the time we got on the ride, Kyle was still pretty unwavering in his conviction that it was all a big joke. But I could tell I had gotten to him. He was gripping my hand pretty tight and I could feel his heart pounding as the ride started.

So, after the doors closed on us, and the first animatronic ghoul popped up, I started screaming. Not a fun half-hearted, hahaha scream. It was an all-out, top-of-lungs, oh my God somebody is trying to fucking kill me, terror-filled scream.

AAAAAAAGHHHHHHHH!

Looking back, that was pretty stupid, because I had no plan for what would happen if he completely freaked out, which I fully expected him to. It would have ruined his day. It would have destroyed his trust in me. It could have ended very very badly. But what happened next surprised me...

Instead of losing his shit, Kyle pulled me close to him and started repeating, "It's okay Dad. I'm still here. You're still here. We're together. We're going to be okay."

But I was determined to scar him for life and destroy him psychologically (Why? For the fun of it I guess). So, I made a jerking motion and told him that something had my leg, and started screaming again. At the time, It felt like fun, but writing this now, I must admit that I feel like a total ass. Kyle was clearly distraught and his heart was beating out of his chest, but he started yanking on my pant leg and very reassuringly yelled, "It's gonna be alright dad! I'm still here! Let's get close to each other so they can't take us!".

As you can imagine, I kept these antics up for the entire ride. And by the time we came out the other end, he must have looked petrified because the people in line had a good laugh when they saw him. Of course, five minutes later he wanted to go on it again, so I don't feel that bad about it, but still...

I mean, this kid was shaken—no doubt about it. But throughout the entire ride he was so focused on calming me. Rather than letting his own fear get the best of him, he was in control of his emotions and focussed on reassuring me. I've seen him exhibit hints of this behavior before. Like distracting Joelle while she's getting a vaccination shot or showing empathy for a friend that gets hurt. But I was absolutely amazed at how well he was able to keep it together and how focused he was on comforting me.

I'm sure there will be plenty of days to come when Kyle will impress me and make me proud, but I have to say that I had never been more impressed with him than I was when we were exiting that ride. What a great kid.

...I think Joelle would handle it like a champ as well, but then again, I guess we'll find out for sure next summer ;)

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Sometimes I get really happy when I hear about successful people that are expecting their first baby. Not because it's going to be a beautiful and wonderful thing for them, but because I know that, in some ways, their life is going to start sucking :)

All I'm saying is that in order for me to feel like the universe is balanced...

I need Jay-Z to not be able to get the smell of spit-up out of his nose. No matter how many times he changes his clothes or takes a shower.

I need Jennifer Anniston to experience the embarrassment of accidentally taking a dump during delivery from trying so hard to push the baby out.*

I need Beyonce to look down at her raw, chapped left nipple and wonder why a third of it is missing, and whether her baby ate it.*

I need Ashton Kutcher to be in public, smell something awful, look down at his shirt, and realize that the baby he was holding at home 30 minutes ago must have had a leaky diaper because now he has shit stains all over his shirt, and there's no way to get a change of clothes (I know he's not expecting, but goddamit, I really need that to happen to this guy).

* While I have no first hand experiences like this, I've heard of such tales, and it delights me to think that it could happen to even these people.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Today my 25 month old daughter has this conversation with her babysitter...

Joelle: Are you a married woman, like my mother?

Babysitter: ...(shocked)... Did you just ask me if I was a married woman?

Joelle: Yeah. Are you a married woman?

Babysitter: Uh... No.

It just so happens that our babysitter is very young, and recently got pregnant while engaged – none of which Christina or I have talked about in front of the kids. Way to give the sitter a complex, Joelle. And by the way, you just turned two. Shouldn't you still be babbling nonsensically? What's up with inquisition?

Friday, August 5, 2011

Sometimes I second guess our decision to immerse our kids in pop-culture. But I gotta say, when we're in the car and Kyle and I sing "Just Can't Get Enough" (duet style), with him as will.i.am and me as Fergie... It just feels right.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

When I was 6 my brother, Ryan was 3. He had a pair of cowboy boots that he LOVED. They were way too big for him—his entire leg pretty much fit inside of them, which made it a little hard to walk. Regardless, he wore the boots everywhere.

One day I convinced Ryan that it would be a good idea to climb up on the roof of the house and try his boots out up there. There was a wood pile on the side of the house that was high enough to where if we stood on it he could reach the roof if I held him up. So off we went. Ryan put his boots on and I hoisted him up.

Inside the house, my parents heard the stomping around above their heads and came out to see what it was. Having my own kids now, I can't even imagine what they must have thought when they came out and saw their toddler on the slanted, wood shingle roof with his oversized cowboy boots on. Sorry Dad, and God, please don't let me have stories like this about my kids when I get older. Hahaha.

Friday, July 22, 2011

When we were young, my parents took us to Manteca Waterslides with another family. Most of the kids were old enough to go on the slides, but my brother, Shea was still really little and couldn't do much other than hang out in the kiddie pool, which was actually quite crowded that day. So, my parents hung out on the lawn near the Kiddie pool within ear reach of Shea.

After a couple of hours playing in the water, Shea got out of the pool and ran over to my mom. He said, "I have to go pee really bad". The bathrooms were pretty far away, and Shea REALLY needed to go. So my mom gave him a wink and whispered, "Eh, just go in the pool." So Shea ran back to the pool and my parents went back to chatting with their friends.

A minute later, a lady started screaming. And then more screams... My parents and everybody immediately looked over. And there was Shea, standing at the edge of the pool, shorts around his ankles, peeing down on all the little children and families in the kiddie pool.

When I was growing up, there was a convenience/liquor store a few blocks from my house called Jiffy Market. As a service to some of their best customers they would allow you to sign for groceries and cash. Rather than having to walk into the bank and stand in line, you could just pull up to their store, buy some groceries, ask for $40 and sign the receipt. And then you would come in at the end of the month and pay off your account. We knew all the clerks and when Ryan, Shea or myself needed money for something, we would ask our mom and she would tell us to go sign for it at Jiffy.

One day, when Shea was around 11 years old he asked my mom if he could have some money to get a haircut. The haircut place was right next to Jiffy Market. My mom was busy and didn't have any money on her so she figured Shea could go to Jiffy, sign for some money, and then go to the barber and get a haircut. My mom said, "I don't have any cash on me. Ride your bike to Jiffy and then get a haircut".

So Shea rode his bike down to Jiffy Market and stood in line. When he got to the front of the line he said. "I need a haircut". The clerk, Raj, agreed but was a little confused as to why Shea rode his bike all the way down there and stood in line to tell him that. So, Raj kindly brushed him aside and started helping other customers.

Shea waited patiently and when the customers had been helped...

Shea: Hey, Raj. I need a haircut.

Raj: Okay...

Shea: ...So, can you give me a haircut?

Raj: What? You want ME to give you a haircut?

Shea: Yeah, my mom told me to come down here and sign for a haircut.

Raj: Are you sure?

Shea: Yeah.

Raj: Okay, sit right there, I'll find some scissors.

Luckily Raj came to his senses and called my mom to make sure before he got started, but we all had a good laugh about it.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

When we were kids, there was rarely a time when my brothers and I were together that we weren't pushing, kicking, teasing, touching, or whining. It was entertaining for us, but oddly, not so much for my mom.

We fought in the car, we fought in church, we fought at friends' houses, we fought at school, we fought in department stores, we fought everywhere. We fought each other, we fought other kids, sometimes two against one, sometimes all against each other. Always loudly, and never with any regard for what was going on around us.

Now, my mom was an enduring person, but one day in the grocery store, it all just became too much for her. She'd had had enough of the constant bickering and the disdainful looks from the people around us. So she said in that angry I'm going to f-ing kill you whisper that moms are so good at, "That's ENOUGH! You boys are constantly embarrassing me in public. If you don't stop it RIGHT NOW you're going to know what it feels like to be embarrassed too."

We stopped fighting for a few seconds. And then Ryan decided Shea was standing too close to him so he gave him a little elbow... and then Shea pushed Ryan into me... And then I screamed for my mom... and then then Shea tried to cover my mouth... and on and on and on...

We followed my mom through the store running, pinching, pulling, screaming and finally got in line at checkout. That's when my mom started sniffing the air and softly said "What is that smell?" Now, this was strange because my mom had no sense of smell... at all. She lost her sense of smell when she was young—like being blind, but in the nose. So, when she said that she smelled something we stopped fighting and took notice. After all, this must have been a miracle of some sort.

She started sniffing the air around us, which I'm sure looked strange to the other people in line because they started to take notice as well. And she said more loudly this time "Wow, which one of you boys did that?... Sniff. Sniff. Which one of you boys farted?" And now the clerk and everybody in our immediate area was looking at us and she said even more loudly, "Did one of you have an accident?"

Well, that shut things down pretty quick. Just as she has promised, we were completely embarrassed. And then, for good measure, she started singling us out, "That smell's horrible!... Sniff. Sniff... Ryan, that smells like you. Did you do that? Is that a fart, or did you have an accident?" As you can imagine, we were absolutely mortified. We stopped fighting and didn't make a peep for the rest of the outing.

From that day on, when we started acting up in public, all my mom had to do was give a little fake sniff the air and order was restored.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Growing up, we didn't have an ice cream truck in our neighborhood. But my parents had some friends out of town and they had an ice cream truck in their neighborhood. One day we heard it going by and we asked what it was. My mom told us that it was the music man and that when we heard his music, we were supposed to go out and dance on the sidewalk.

I don't know how we missed the fact that while we were dancing, all the other kids around us were eating ice cream and pop-cycles. I was at least 10 years old before I realized that we had been scammed.

This Friday will mark the second anniversary of my mom's passing. In honor of her, I'll be posting her own stories about raising her kids, Ryan, Shea, and myself. If you knew my mom then you've probably heard some of the these stories already. I'll try to do them justice. Feel free to correct me if I get it wrong :)

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Well, Kyle finally cracked. It was bound to happen, I just wasn't sure how much he could take. After a week of intentionally boring him with the most mundane bedtime stories a father has ever told his child, Kyle has requested that I either start reading him books or tell him some REAL stories.

This all started last week when I was telling a co-worker about my kid's bedtime routine (I know, I know, but I'm his boss so he has to listen and pretend like he's interested). I was telling him about how Kyle usually gives me a theme for a story and I make something up. It usually involves some superheroes doing crazy stunts. And my co-worker asked me, "Doesn't that get him kinda worked up? How is he able to go to sleep after that?". And it got me thinking... maybe that's why it's always such a struggle to keep him in bed after I leave the room. And so it started – a week of the absolute most boring bedtime stories that have ever been told.

I've dabbled in this before with such stories as The Hulk Hosts a Dinner Party and The Flash Visits the DMV, but that was really just for my own amusement. Plus, those stories at least had some dialog, a plot, and some mild excitement. This new batch of boring bedtime stories was on a whole new level, with titles like, Superman Sits in the Waiting Room at His Doctor's Office, Spiderman Waits at a Red Light, and Batman Looks at Clouds.

These stories last about 10 minutes each, so I'm not going to subject you to a full story, but I thought you might appreciate this excerpt...

Me: On his way into the doctor's office, Superman held the door for an older man who must have been there to visit the same doctor. It was only after he let the man pass that he realized how very slow he was moving. That's okay, he thought. Afterall, he had gotten there a few minutes early. So the very slow man made his way to the sign-in counter with Superman walking just behind him. Step-by-step. Step... by... step.

Kyle: Yeah, and then the old man turned into Dr. Doom and started fighting Superman!

Me: Nope. Actually, the old man just signed in and slowly walked into the waiting area. Then Superman signed in and made his way to the waiting area as well. Superman decided to sit on the other side of the room in a seat that didn't face the old man so that the old man didn't feel the need to make small talk with him. He looked at the clock on the wall. It was now 5 minutes past his scheduled appointment time. Superman began to wonder where the doctor might be.

Kyle: Oh! He was probably tied up in the back room by Lex Luthor or some other bad guy!

Me: No, he was just helping some other patients and filling out some paperwork. For now, Superman would just have to sit quietly and wait. He looked down on the floor near his chair and saw a basket with some tattered magazines in it. One was about fishing. The other was about cars. The other one looked like some kind of financial magazine. Superman wasn't interested in any of these, so he decided to sit and do nothing while he waited. He looked at the clock again. The minute hand hadn't moved at all... or maybe it had just a little. Yeah, maybe just a tiny bit.

Kyle: Oh, I know! The clock was broken because Superman shot laser beams from his eyes at it!

Me: I don't think so. Time was just moving very, very slowly.

...and this goes on and on until the nurse tells Superman that the doctor wants him to wait in a different room for a while. And then the story is over.

Every night I would try to make his story more boring than the night before. And I was getting worried that it just wasn't possible. On the other hand, Kyle was telling me that he loved the stories, and his after hours getting-out-of-bed antics weren't changing. So I decided to blast him with An Ordinary Man Watches Dust Collect on a Picture Frame. And this is what finally put Kyle over the edge.

On every other night, I could see that Kyle was fidgeting, and he was waiting for something exciting to happen. But he always let me finish and then thanked me for the story and said that he loved it (which felt kinda patronizing to me but whatever). However, on this night Kyle stopped me mid-story and said "Dad, I like these stories, but their just kinda long. Can you tell me a story about superheroes doing cool stuff, or maybe we just read a book?".

And so, I learned two things from our little experiment:

1. It doesn't matter what kind of story I tell Kyle, he's still going to get out of bed.

Monday, July 11, 2011

Kyle has a special friend named Dyle. He's a small bird that hangs out with Kyle during the day. He likes to push all the buttons in the car, and usually snuggles with him while he sleeps. He's also imaginary (in case I forgot to mention). Seems harmless, but as it turns out, Dyle may not be the friend that Kyle thought he was...

For example, yesterday, when Kyle woke up from his nap, Dyle was nowhere to be found. Which is strange because Dyle was sitting right next to him on the couch only a couple hours earlier, and normally they hang out in the afternoon. It just wasn't like Dyle to disappear like that. Kyle was quite emotional about it. He'd looked everywhere for Dyle, and the only possible explanation was that Dyle didn't enjoy spending time with him anymore.

Also, Dyle speaks English and "bird language", but Kyle only speaks English. So, Kyle can't understand Dyle when he talks to other birds, and it sounds like this language barrier might be putting a strain on their relationship.

Dyle was relaxing in the living room when we returned from dinner. But I could tell that things between Kyle and Dyle just weren't the same as before. Something had cooled between them a bit. It was as if there was some sort of unspoken trust that had been broken.

I'm hoping that they will be able to salvage their friendship, but it sounds like Kyle may have made his first imaginary frenemy.

Friday, July 8, 2011

Yesterday morning I woke up and Kyle had my phone in his hands and a big smile on his face. And in his sweet little voice he said "Daddy, I sent a message to your phone. It says I love you". This should have melted my heart, and for a second it did... but then I completely panicked.

Now, I know that Kyle has somewhat of a grasp on how texting works – exactly enough to be dangerous. And if he's holding my phone, then WHO IN THE HELL DID HE SEND THAT TEXT TO? Perhaps a colleague? Maybe somebody in my address book that I haven't spoken to in ages? Oh shit, maybe he sent it to a client.

I spent the next 10 minutes interrogating him about EXACTLY which buttons he pressed. And, of course, this 4 year old that can recall 40 of the 50 states, and navigate an iPhone like an Apple fanboy suddenly has no idea what he may or may not have pressed. In fact, he was really only interested in telling me which level he got to on Angry Birds.

Thursday, June 30, 2011

He typed it up on our label maker and it says "wow woo wow" - sounds happy people make. He said that it would make me happy when I look at. Sweet huh? That's what I thought until I realized his true intent...

This is a mind control device designed to weaken my parental control.

Example #1:

Me: Kyle, it's time to stop coloring. We have to go.

Kyle: I'm not done yet.

Me: Kyle, we're late and I'm starting to get upset.

Kyle: Look at your bracelet dad... (Sly look out of the corner of his eye , as if he just cast some sort of ecstasy spell on me)... Now how do you feel?

Friday, June 24, 2011

I brought my son to work today for 20 minutes while he waited for his mom to pick him up. He announced to everybody in the office that he LOVES to eat his boogers. We're gonna have to work on first impressions.

Sunday, June 5, 2011

We told Kyle he could sprint the last 50 yards of his mom's half-marathon with her. In retrospect, I should have communicated a little better with Christina on that detail. Chaos ensued and the little dude almost took out a few runners.

We waited a little ways before the finish and I told Kyle he would have to run extra fast to keep up with her. Having just run 14 miles, she was a little out of it when she came by, and I think she forgot that he wanted to run the last bit with her, so she said hi and kept running towards the finish line. But Kyle had not forgotten. He took off after her... FAST, and Christina had no idea he was behind her. I was left standing there holding Joelle and a bunch of other bags, food and jackets, watching runners dodge him until he slipped out of my vision. Found him standing on the finish line about to get railroaded by some Kenyans. Haha!

Monday, April 25, 2011

I just got reprimanded by my kid. Not sure if I deserved it or not, but one thing is very clear... I'm completely out of my league in this house when it comes to verbal sparring.

Kyle got in trouble for spitting on another kid today at school.

Both Christina and I talked with him about it earlier today, but I thought I would use a bedtime story as a way to really drill home the fact that spitting is gross and that we shouldn't spit on people.

Every night Kyle sets the parameters for his story and then I make one up as I'm telling him (fun for him and sort of a creative exercise for me). Anyway, tonight he requested a story about a video game that he likes to play. So, I wove a story about how the main character in the game got in an argument with his friend and spit on him, and then nobody wanted to play with him anymore, and he was sad and lonely.

So, towards the end of the story Kyle stops me and says...

Kyle: Excuse me Daddy. Why are we talking about spitting?

Me: That's just how this story goes.

Kyle: Yeah, but there's no spitting in the video game. So, why are you trying to tell me a story about spitting? Is it because I spit on my friend today?

Me: What do you think?

Kyle: I think you don't need to do that. I already learned my lesson from Mommy on the way home from school today. This just makes me feel bad. And you're not supposed to do this with bedtime stories. Bedtime stories are supposed to be fun.

My mom used to say some pretty bizarre stuff if you started talking to her just before she fell asleep - sort of a verbal dream state. Tonight I started falling asleep while telling my son a bedtime story and did the same thing. Not sure exactly what I said, but something about Darth Vader, a beach ball, and some angry lady. Kyle seemed a little confused/freaked out when I finally snapped out of it. Hahaha.

My brother, Shea, and my mom would watch TV together and just when my mom's eyes were closing he wold turn to her and say something like...

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

This morning Kyle told me that he wants to be an astronaut acrobat ninja when he grows up. Why didn't somebody tell me that was a viable career path when I was growing up? I'd be doing flips and throwing ninja stars on the space shuttle right now. Damn.

Monday, January 31, 2011

When dropping Kyle off this morning, his teacher said "I heard Kyle had quite the birthday party yesterday". Then I heard another parent say, "Birthday party? It was more like a frat party." LOL. Not sure how to take that.